


caress

by cassyl



Series: witcher femslash february [27]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crushes, F/F, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 00:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30046989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassyl/pseuds/cassyl
Summary: Continuation ofvisions,together,disguise,hands,swords,wedding, anddecay. Yennefer and Renfri usually exchange gifts on the anniversary of Stregobor's death, but not this year
Relationships: Renfri/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: witcher femslash february [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191461





	caress

Ever since Renfri gave her the silver dagger she now wears on her belt, they’ve exchanged gifts every year on the anniversary of Stregobor’s death. Sometimes, it’s not much—one particularly lean year, Renfri gave her a crude wooden spoon she carved herself, which Yennefer still uses to measure ingredients for spells—while other years, their gestures are more elaborate—a while back, for instance, acquired at great cost a certain oracular mirror and hired a metallurgist to help Renfri melt it down herself.

They don’t make a big thing of it. They’re not prone to indulging in maudlin shows of sentiment, but never the less, it’s one ritual they’ve stuck to for so long now that neither of them seems inclined to break the habit. In her heart of hearts, Yennefer knows it can’t be good to cling to the act of violence that brought them together—that, on balance, it may do more harm than good—but she’s not about to be the one to come up empty-handed on the day.

As the Continent begins to wake itself from another long winter, Yennefer’s thoughts turn, as they always do around this time of year, to what to get Renfri. Over the years, she’s given her everything from weapons—always a big hit—to jewelry—less well-received—and as she does the mental calculation, Yennefer is surprised to realize it’s been almost twenty years. 

Twenty years doesn’t mean much to a sorceress, but for Renfri, it means she’s now lived longer at Yennefer’s side than she has without her. The fact that time doesn’t show much on either of their faces makes it easy to forget they’ve been together so long—privately, Yennefer suspects that Renfri’s slow aging may have something to do with Lilit’s influence, just like the visions Renfri sometimes receives, but she knows better than to pursue this line of thought aloud. It’s easy, given her youthful looks, to forget that Renfri isn’t the sharp-edged, self-destructive girl she was when they first met. She’s still plenty prickly, and reckless enough for the both of them, but she’s lost the readiness for ruin she once had, that quality that both caused Yennefer to recognize her as a kindred spirit and to worry about her with a fierceness that continually surprised her.

What do you get to commemorate twenty years with someone you care for more deeply than anyone you’ve ever known, but whose relationship to you defies all classification? In their work, she is more Yennefer’s partner than her deputy, though Renfri has always tried to cast herself as the second-in-command. They’ve lived together in almost every possible configuration—on the road, in hiding, sometimes even in real homes, for a while—and have seen both the best and the worst of one another. They have saved each other more times than either of them can count. She once told herself she felt only motherly protection towards Renfri, but enough time has passed that Yennefer can admit that was never really true. Renfri is important to her, in the big way she never really believed she would find, and there’s no gift grand enough to commemorate that.

“You’re looking more forbidding than usual,” Renfri remarks, leaning on the doorframe to knock mud from her boots, which tells Yennefer she’s just come in from the Oxenfurt door. “What’s up?”

“What if,” Yennefer says slowly, “we didn’t get one another anything this year.” She doesn’t specify any further, trusting that Renfri will know what she means.

“Oh.” From the surprise on Renfri’s face, it’s evident she knows exactly what Yennefer’s referring to. Carefully—flatly, with finely-honed stillness—she says, “If you’d rather.”

Yennefer feels something flex in her chest, just on the edge of breaking. Renfri’s come a long way, but she still recognizes that brittle girl in moments like this, but it doesn’t frighten Yennefer anymore, only fills her with an ache that is somewhere between fondness and regret. “I thought,” she continues pointedly, “we might go somewhere, instead. Take a sort of . . . holiday. I’m told it’s something people do.”

“Oh,” Renfri says again, and there’s an entirely different color to it this time. With much less tension in her voice, she says, “All right, if you like.” She pushes off from the door frame, where it seemed she’d frozen herself when Yennefer broached the subject, and goes about whatever business she came into the study on.

“Because the thing is,” Yennefer says, before she can lose her nerve, “the only thing I really want is more time with you.”

Renfri glances up from the book she’s just opened, and blinks at Yennefer. 

Yennefer steels herself, against what she’s not quite sure, and closes the distance between them, until she’s near enough that she can smell Renfri’s faint sweat and leather scent. “I can’t think of a better gift than the years we’ve spent together, and there’s no way better way to honor that time than to have more of it.”

Just like she did once, years ago, she strokes Renfri’s cheek, and feels her turn into the caress. Only this time, she doesn’t let herself stop there. She threads her fingers into Renfri’s soft hair and draws her close, and decides she won’t let go, not for a very long time, maybe ever.


End file.
